She was proud her son had gotten into college—but tuition was expensive, and she couldn't afford it.

I knew how tough it was raising a kid on her own, so I offered to cover all four years of Calvin's tuition.

Aileen had teared up on the spot.

She gripped my hands, thanking me over and over, swearing she'd repay the kindness someday.

Then, starting last month, things changed.

I came home one day and found Calvin James standing in my living room.

I had no idea why he was there, but Aileen pulled me aside and whispered：

“Young Mr. Dickerson, my son's got nowhere to go on weekends. It's been so long since I've seen him—I just figured he could come stay a couple days.”

I nodded and let it go.

The house had plenty of rooms. Letting them spend some time together wasn't a big deal.

But gradually, something started feeling off.

A couple of days turned into every single weekend, like clockwork.

Every Friday evening, Calvin showed up at my house. He wouldn't leave until Monday morning.

At first, he just liked taking photos around the living room and posting them online, showing off to his classmates about the mansion he was living in.

I could understand that. Everyone wants to look good in front of other people.

What I couldn't understand was the way Calvin looked at me every time we crossed paths. Pure disgust. Like I repulsed him.

Like I owed him millions.

A few times, while I was sitting on the couch watching TV, he deliberately pinched his nose and complained at full volume：

“God, this place is gorgeous, but why does it always reek of poverty?”

I actually thought he'd smelled something off. I reminded Aileen to give the house a thorough cleaning.

But Calvin only got worse. He started spraying disinfectant all over wherever I'd been sitting.

He laid disposable seat covers on the couch—then told me to sit on those instead.

I caught him more than once tossing things I'd used straight into the trash, disgust written all over his face.

Whenever I confronted Aileen about it, she'd give me the same sheepish explanation：

“Calvin just worries those things aren't clean, you know? He's afraid it might be bad for you, so he's a little strict about it.”

I didn't think much of it at the time.

Between school and handling things at my family's company, I was already stretched thin enough without picking fights over something like that.

Until this afternoon.

That note taped to the door finally made everything click.

Calvin thought I was the freeloader.

I'd been ready to teach both Aileen and Calvin a lesson.

But Aileen kept pleading with me, desperate：

“Young Mr. Dickerson, I swear, there won't be a next time.”

“I'll tell Calvin the truth today. He'll never set foot in this house again.”

“Please, for the sake of all those years I spent serving your parents, forgive me just this once.”

I looked at that humbled expression on her face and sighed：“Forget it.”

“I'm dropping it.”

After the officers left, Aileen let out a long breath of relief, thanking me again and again, practically falling over herself to show her gratitude.

After that day, Calvin really did stop coming.

Aileen kept working as hard as ever, keeping the house spotless.

The one thing she couldn't keep straight was the inventory.

A bottle of wine went missing one day. A set of silverware the next. An expensive suit the day after that.

Every time I asked, Aileen had an excuse：

“I'm so sorry—I accidentally knocked over that bottle of wine while I was cleaning.”

“That dinnerware set was getting old. I noticed cracks when I was washing it and was worried you might cut yourself, so I went ahead and threw it out.”

“I took that suit to the dry cleaner's, and they lost it.”

Every excuse sounded thin, but her attitude was always apologetic enough that I let it go.

I figured that would be the end of it.

Then Memorial Day came. After visiting my parents' graves, I decided to drive out to the country estate where they'd spent most of their lives and give the place a proper cleaning.

It was their favorite place in the world.

The courtyard was full of the flowers my mother had loved most, and every room held souvenirs my father had brought back from his travels.

Before she died, my mother had held my hand and told me the house was her and my father's life's work. She made me promise to take care of it.

I cherished that estate. Even though being there stirred up memories I wasn't ready to face, I still went back regularly after moving out on my own, wiping down every piece of furniture, trimming every plant in the courtyard.

But this time, I froze the moment I reached the front gate.

The gate, always locked, was standing wide open.

From inside the house came the thud of music turned up loud enough to rattle windows, layered with laughter and shouting.

I walked straight in and pushed open the front door.

I couldn't believe what I was looking at.

The living room was destroyed.

Empty bottles, snack wrappers, fruit peels, sunflower-seed shells, and cigarette butts covered the coffee table, the couches, the floor.

Burn after burn after burn—black cigarette holes scorched straight through the leather sofa, the one that had cost a fortune.

My mother's beloved Persian rug was trampled with muddy footprints and splashed with red wine.

The keepsakes on the walls had been pulled down, some used as photo props, others smashed and tossed into corners.

My fists clenched so hard my knuckles ached.

My parents had lived here for half their lives. Every piece of furniture, every item on display, they had chosen themselves.

Whenever I was here, I walked carefully, afraid of bumping even the smallest thing.

And now the whole place had been trashed beyond recognition.

I scanned the room and found Calvin sitting on the couch directly facing the door.

His classmates crowded around him：

“Calvin, your family is insane rich. Even a random country house looks like this?”

“Seriously, I just looked it up. Any one of those paintings on the wall is worth millions.”

“Oh my God, your mom is unreal. No wonder she's a billionaire!”

“Hey, for old times' sake, once you inherit all this, think you could hook us up with jobs at your family's company?”

Calvin's lips curled higher with every word：“Easy. Stick with me, and none of you will ever have to worry about money again.”

His classmates lit up, tripping over each other to flatter him even harder.

That was when Calvin spotted me in the doorway.

The grin dropped off his face. He stood and walked toward me, chin high.

Crack.

Without a word, he drove his fist straight into my face：

“You pathetic deadbeat—you actually followed me here?”

The punch came out of nowhere and locked me in place.

Every classmate in the room stared：

“Calvin, what's going on?”

He jabbed a finger at me, face twisted with contempt：

“This right here is Kieran—the little mooch I was just telling you about!”

“Mooching off our place in the city wasn't enough for you? Now you show up here trying to mooch off the villa my mom just bought me?”

I stared at Calvin in disbelief：

“Who told you your mom bought this house?”

Calvin let out a scornful laugh：

“She told me herself.”

“You're pathetic. You saw that my mom's a company CEO, so you park yourself in our house day after day, trying to worm your way into her good graces.”

“Freeloading and engineering alone time with her still isn't enough for you? Now you want to come defile my villa too?”

“Let me spell it out for you. My mom said the only reason she let you stay was because your parents are dead and she felt sorry for you. So don't push your luck and start dreaming about stealing my position as the real young master of this family!”

That was what Aileen had been telling him?

No wonder Calvin had always treated me like dirt.

To him, Aileen was the CEO who owned the villa. And I was the pitiful orphan she'd charitably taken in.

All this time, Calvin thought I was the one clinging to his house, scheming to steal his only-son status.

Absurd.

Calvin turned back to his classmates and announced loudly：

“You guys want to know how shameless this Kieran Dickerson really is?”

“He camps out in our house every single day. We can't get rid of him.”

“I even stuck a note on the door telling him to stop mooching, and he threw a fit and called the cops on my mom, said she was bullying him.”

“My mom was afraid he'd blow it up into something bigger and drag the company's name through the mud, so she just let it go—bought me this whole new villa so I could live on my own.”

“Sometimes I really can't wrap my head around it. I'm her actual son, the real deal, and I spend half my time in the dorms. But this guy, some broke orphan, plants himself in our house around the clock like he owns the place. It got to the point where if I wanted to wear my own clothes or drink the wine I like, my mom had to sneak it out from the city mansion, just so he wouldn't find out and start whining that we were picking on him.”

“In my entire life, I have never seen a more shameless waste of space!”

My eyes went wide.

So that was why things kept disappearing from the city mansion. Aileen had been sneaking them out here for her son.

Aileen Chavez. What a piece of work.

Since you want to play me for a fool, don't blame me for what comes next.

I pulled out my phone right there and called the Legal Department：

“Get a team out to my parents' country estate immediately……”

Before I could finish, Calvin snatched the phone out of my hand and smashed it on the ground：

“You worthless piece of trash—how are you still keeping up the act?”

“Your parents' estate? This is the villa my mom bought for me!”

His classmates piled on, sneering and spitting contempt：

“No wonder everyone else lives in the dorms and he's the only one who never stays on campus. I thought he was busy with something legit. Turns out he was leeching off Calvin's family and trying to steal his mom. Disgusting.”

“Exactly. His own parents are dead, so he goes and latches onto someone else's rich ones. If his parents knew how shameless he was, they'd be rolling in their graves.”

“Some people are just that brazen. The second they spot money, they're scheming to latch onto rich godparents so they can ride their way to the top.”

“Calvin, you're way too nice about this. If somebody tried to steal my parents, I'd rip him apart!”

I ignored every last one of them, locked my eyes on Calvin, and said, voice hard：

“I'd suggest you call your mother right now and ask her who this estate actually belongs to.”